Cherry Mistmas, Master Kenobi
by XtinethePirate
Summary: Xmas Eve in the Temple! [canon or not, 'tis fun!]. Includes a full compliment of Gambling Jedi Masters, Carol singing Padawans, Santa Hats, Quinlan Vos, and Drunk!Obi [in a Santa Hat]. And Hot Jedi Love with Anakin... Rated strong R for contentlanguage


**A little bit of XMAS SMUT for everybody, to ease off the cold chill of winter! Featuring Quinlan Vos as best supporting Jedi Actor in a fic, and Drunk!Obi, who is always fun to play with. A full contingent of gambling masters, santa hats, Senator friends and carol-singing padawans. **

**ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. GL would never be this silly (and come on, would his dialogue be as good? NO WAY!) LOL**

**Remember, reviews are LOVE!**

**(Z and Y, thank you for reading AMNQ and letting me die of utter mortification. I hope that this one is as good, jedi porn and all! Loves, X)

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**Cherry Mistmas, Master Kenobi**

_December 14 – December 18, 2005_

"No… no Mace, not… not that much…" Obi-Wan protested weakly as the older Jedi Master liberally topped off his shot glass with heady Corellian brandy. The amber liquid sloshed over the lip of the crystal, pooling on the floor of the Council Chambers and releasing the pungent smell of spirits into the air.

"Hmm… a lightweight, Master Kenobi is, knew this, I did _not_," Yoda giggled, tossing back his own drink in one gulp.

Obi-Wan sighed, picking up the glass of brandy and holding it gingerly at eye-level, studying it as though trying to determine what effect the innocuous-seeming liquor would have on his inhibitions.

He _hated_ the Jedi Grandmaster Christmas Bash. Hated. It. There was something… _unnerving_ about seeing the most powerful Force-wielders in the galaxy piss-drunk, leaning on each other as they sang loud Christmas carols with the wrong lyrics, or tearfully professed that they _loooooooooooved_ each other.

This was what he had been reduced to.

"Come _on_, Master Kenobi!" Mace grinned, throwing a companionable arm over the hesitant Jedi's shoulders. "Just _relax_ for a change."

"From your ass, your lightsabre hilt, remove." Yoda agreed with a hiccough.

"_Quinlan the red-nosed nexu!" _Ki-Adi-Mundi slurred off-key.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and downed his shot as Quinlan Vos, flushed bright red behind the yellow tattoo over his cheeks, hurled his glass at Ki-Adi's head.

It was going to be a looooong night.

----

Anakin sat on the couch in Padmé's apartments, trying not to fidget. But if she showed him _one more_ bolt of fabric for her new curtains, by the _Force_…. He constrained his mounting frustration with difficulty, forcing himself to smile, to be the attentive friend that she expected him to be.

The evening hadn't been that bad… not really. Padmé had been a close friend of his since they had re-established their acquaintance three years ago, but Anakin found that he preferred _Padmé_ to the politician Senator Amidala. And it had been the Senator whom he had accompanied to the fancy soiree, allowing himself to be paraded around to all the senators and visiting dignitaries like a pet puuri cat, forcing himself to smile rather than Force-choke the idiots who made snide little remarks about the effectiveness of the Jedi Order. He had played along with the questions about his and the Senator's engagement as Padmé had instructed him to do, knowing that it was the only reason she had begged him to attend. She was an affluent Senator, and as such needed a similarly prominent date. Anakin _was_ one of Coruscant's most eligible young men, and the title of "The Hero with No Fear" certainly helped….

The idea of being a mark of status in their tightly-woven political game made Anakin nauseous, but he _did_ owe Padmé a favour, after all (not that _that_ particular incident was something he wanted to think about. The memory still made him flush brilliant red with embarrassment). But more to the point, he had argued with Obi-Wan. Again. That was enough reason to want to get out of the Temple for an evening.

The guilt at not telling Obi-Wan where he was going still gnawed at him, however. He had always spent Christmas together with his Master before…it was the only day of the year when Anakin woke up before Obi-Wan did.

"'_Master! Master Obi-Wan! Look! Look, it snowed last night!' Anakin exclaimed excitedly, bursting into his Master's room and hopping up on the end of the sleep-couch, bouncing slightly. _

_Sleepy blue eyes opened groggily to peer at Anakin's face, then out the window. 'Mmm-hmm….' Obi-Wan murmured, turning back over on his side and tugging the blanket up higher over his shoulders. _

'_Master, are you going to sleep _all day?_'_

'…_unnnh… it will still be there in… in a few more hours… Padawan…' Obi-Wan groaned, pulling his pillow over his face to block out the assault of the sun and his grinning apprentice. _

'_I made you some hot chocolate, Master…'_

_A pause. _

'_Well, I suppose it was time I got up anyways….'"_

Forcing his mind back to the present, Anakin tried to focus on the positives of his current situation. Remembering how Obi-Wan had looked last year on Christmas morning, clad only in his loose sleep pants, hair mussed and falling in his eyes, eyes tired but amused as he sipped at his hot chocolate…those weren't thoughts conducive to staying _mad_ at Obi-Wan.

No, it was better to think about that Sithly torture - er, the _party –_ that he had gone to with Padmé. Yes. The party. _Not_ half-naked Obi-Wan. The _party_. The food had been good. That was important. Padmé's caterers with the unpronounceable names _did_ know how to cook. But it had been in such bite-sized pieces that it hadn't made much of a dent in the voracious young Jedi's appetite. Obi-Wan was a better cook, and he understood how much a young Jedi tended to eat. But, after that last mission, Anakin had needed to get away from Obi-Wan (and to get a little drunk, in the hopes of numbing any and all thoughts of Obi-Wan).

Anakin shifted once more on the couch as Padmé finally tossed the offending fabric aside, poured two glasses of Nubian wine – traditional at Christmas on her home planet – and sat down next to him.

"Anakin, stop being an ass," she said firmly, reaching up with one hand to pull the pins from her elaborate coiffure, letting her long brown curls tumble down around her face. "I know you're not interested in interior decorating, I hate it as much as you do. But…" she sighed, kicking her legs up on the cushions so that she was facing him fully, "I thought if I picked something incredibly boring to discuss, you would burst out with whatever has been bothering you just to get me to shut up." She smiled, taking a long sip of the spiced red wine.

Anakin blinked slowly at Padmé, uncertain that he had heard her correctly. The _alcohol_ at her party had _also_ been very good, and it was dulling his responses.

"I… you… _what?" _he asked, frowning. "There's… there's _nothing_ wrong with me, Padmé, I…"

"Hmm. You fought with Obi-Wan again?"

Anakin pouted at being so easily found out, opting to take a deep drink of his wine – wishing for something stronger – rather than replying.

Padmé laughed, reaching over to ruffle Anakin's hair, smirking as he shrugged her off in irritation. "Another lover's spat, Anakin? No wonder you're in such a foul mood."

"I'm not in a –" Anakin began to protest automatically, then the rest of his friend's words caught up to him, making him speechless for a second. "L-lover… _lover's spat? _I… he… we're _not _lovers, Padmé!"

"Mmm-hmm," Padmé replied in a sing-song tone with a knowing wink.

"We're _not!" _Anakin yelled, slamming his glass of wine down on the table and standing up, feeling his cheeks flush bright red. _Not for lack of wishing on my part_, he silently amended.

"Anakin, please." Padmé said calmly, rising to stand next to him at the window. "It's not a big secret. You can tell me. Everybody knows, even the _Council_ knows!"

"Well it's news to me," Anakin replied huffily, folding his arms defensively in his cloak.

"And you doing things like _that_," Padmé noted with a small smile, "don't help the rumours. You even _stand_ like he does."

"I… I do not…" Anakin murmured.

"I'm not an idiot, Anakin." Padmé replied sharply, flopping back down on the couch. "Men have no subtlety at all. Now tell me what's going on between you two!"

Anakin sighed, resigned. It was going to be a looooong night.

---

The game had been going on for a few hours (as the mounting pile of empty bottles would attest), each Jedi Master taking it in turns to state something they had done, beginning the phrase with _"I've never…."_ Any Master who had done the same was then obliged to drink a shot. To Obi-Wan, it was all incredibly juvenile… but then again, so was the whole party. At least it wasn't playing strip poker – Obi-Wan had discovered last year – to his _utter_ mortification – that he was _shit_ when it came to card games.

So far, Obi-Wan had managed to avoid having to start off a round, playing on the fact that his fellow Jedi were too drunk to remember who had said what.

"I've never… wanted to punch Mace Windu in a Council meeting." Quinlan said slowly, filling up his own shot glass with an unsteady hand, his Santa hat askew on his long black hair.

The rest of the Masters cheered, clinking their glasses together and downing the shots with gusto.

"Hey…" Mace protested with a good natured grin. "Some…_somebody_ has… has to keep all y'all… all you motherfuckas in line."

Yoda leaned over, hoisting the bottle of brandy that was almost as big as he was to pour an unsteady shot in Mace's glass. "If wanted to punch your_self_ you have not, a liar… call you...you… a liar are!"

"When understand the concept of grammar, you do not, fucking hard to speak when drunk, it is!" Obi-Wan laughed, raising his glass in salute of Yoda, who twitched his ears irritably.

"My turn now, it is." The old Jedi Master considered, as Plo Koon refilled his shot glass. "Unfair, this game is. Much… much larger than me you all are. Unnatural, this is. Giants, you are. Affects me more, your liquor does…." Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, and he swayed backwards. Mace reached out with the Force to catch the old troll, but missed. The emptying bottle of brandy wobbled dangerously as the wave of Force-power hit it. Obi-Wan reached out to steady it with his hand, but overbalanced and fell, laughing, on his face.

"I'll go, then" Mace said, filling up his own shot glass. "I have never wanted to fuck another Jedi Master," he stated loudly, draining his glass and slamming it back down on the floor. "Double unless you tell who it was," he grinned like a nexu.

"Soooooo…. Who was it that _you_ wanted to bed, Macey?" Ki-Adi-Mundi demanded.

"Who else? Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan sat up swiftly, clutching at his temples as the room spun wildly beneath him. "_What?_"

Mace turned to Obi-Wan with a lecherous smirk. "Qui-Gon Jinn was easily the most fuckable bastard in the Temple, Kenobi. Don't tell me _you_ didn't notice _that."_Ki-Adi-Mundi nodded his regal head, downing his shot. "Qui-Gon."

Quinlan topped his up liberally and tossed it back. "Qui-Gon!"

"Not you as well?" Obi-Wan muttered, cradling his chin in one hand.

Quinlan shrugged. "Why do you think I always wanted to go on missions with you two? I was hoping to get some, ah, _private lightsabre training_ with your Master."

Luminara Unduli filled up her glass and slowly drained it, licking her lips with a wicked smirk. "Yes. Qui-Gon Jinn."

Depa Billaba drained her shot pensively. "Obi-Wan Kenobi." she stated plainly, to a chorus of catcalls from the other Masters. Crawling across the circle of tipsy Jedi on her hands and knees, accentuating the movement of her hips, she grinned seductively at Obi-Wan. Leaning in, she planted a kiss in the very embarrassed Jedi Master's lips. "And that offer is still open," she whispered, ruffling his hair and licking her lips before retreating to her place.

"Come on, Obi-Wan. Drink yours, tell us who it was!" Quinlan encouraged the stunned Jedi, grabbing his shoulder companionably.

"I…. I….I what?" Obi-Wan stammered, still staring in vague shock at Depa. She winked lewdly at him, making the flustered Jedi Master turn bright crimson. He suddenly found his shot glass _very_ interesting as Quinlan refilled it.

"You still need to answer the question, Obi-dearest." Quinlan cooed with a wicked grin, taking a swig from the bottle after Obi-Wan's glass was full. "You can make a date with the harpy over there some other time."

Obi-Wan shot a glare at the grinning Jedi, not daring to glance over at Depa. He thought for a long moment, a faint smile tingeing his expression, before draining his glass. Then, with equal deliberation, he refilled it, drinking it again to a chorus of booing. "_That_ will be my little secret," he smiled.

"Well, we all know it was Qui-Gon anyways," Yoda muttered, slowly opening his eyes.

There was a moment of silence as all Jedi stared at the conscious green troll.

"Um… know it was Qui-Gon, all of us do."

"No, it was Dooku, actually," Obi-Wan chuckled, falling over slowly to rest on his side, propping his head up with one hand.

"Hmm… my choice, that would be."

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow, starting to laugh. "I _was_ joking, Master."

"Irrelevant this is. Your turn, it is, Master Gallia." Yoda replied peevishly.

"Well, we already all know what _Yoda's_ answer to this one is…" the beautiful Jedi Master smiled sensuously as she spoke, "but…. I've never fucked my Padawan."

"Hmm, _wanted to_, I did. Fucked him, I did not. Essential size discrepancy there was-" Yoda ducked as nine shot glasses were hurled at him in disgust.

"You and _Siri?_" Obi-Wan demanded of Adi, ignoring the ancient green troll for the moment, and hearing his voice break slightly on the last word. He had never realized that the subject of his Padawan infatuation had… _other _interests.

Adi winked at him, settling back on her elbows. "You're not the only one who noticed that my Padawan was gorgeous, Obi-dearest."

"Fuck _me_… you're all a bunch of… of randy _whores_, aren't you? I mean… fuck!"

"What did you think it meant to be a Jedi Master?" Quinlan chuckled, as Depa smirked and added _"Fuck_ _you_? Does that mean you're taking me up on my offer?"

To Obi-Wan's muzzy surprise, many of the Masters took a draught when the bottle was passed around the circle – all the glasses having broken from being turned into anti-Yoda missiles. He stared at the bottle for a long moment as it was handed to him, wishing that, drunk as he was, he could take the shot. With a sigh, he handed it over to Quinlan.

Who raised his eyebrows in disbelief as he pushed the bottle back at Obi-Wan. "Now, now, _Mah-stah_ _Kenobi_," he said sternly, mocking Obi-Wan's precise Coruscanti accent, "drunk as you might be, surely it can't be considered _civilized_ to _lie_ to your peers?"

"I – I'm _not_ lying!" Obi-Wan sputtered, feeling himself flush bright red as the other Masters suddenly developed coughs that sounded suspiciously like _sure, yeah, right_. "I'm _not!_" he cast around helplessly for any sign of aid. "Master Yoda, surely _you_ don't believe that I… that I would _seduce_ Anakin?"

"Believe it, I do not," the green Jedi Master asserted, rubbing angrily at the bump that was rising on his head.

Obi-Wan nodded sharply in vindication. "_Thank you, _Master-"

"Believe that your Padawan seduced _you_, I _do!_" the troll cackled gleefully.

"I'm _NOT _sleeping with ANAKIN!" Obi-Wan yelled, shoving the glass of liquor away as Quinlan waved it under his nose again.

"We never said you were _sleeping_ with him," Mace laughed knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Unnnh…" Obi-Wan groaned, pressing the heels of his palms over his eyes.

"Aw… is Obi-Wan embarrassed?" Quinlan teased, leaning his head against Obi-Wan's shoulder and grinning up at him. "We all know about it, after all."

"What makes you all think that he was the one to seduce me, and not the other way around?" the flustered Jedi demanded, raking one hand through his hair.

"Well, to be blunt…" Mace leaned over to place one hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, staring seriously into the younger Jedi Master's eyes. "Because Anakin is Anakin. And you're… _you_."

"_I'm dreaming of a naked Ani… just like the one I fucked last night…!"_ Depa and Adi sang in perfect harmony, hands clasped theatrically, swaying from side to side – although Obi-Wan wasn't sure if that was an effect of the performance, or the alcohol.

"Backwards have that, you do." Yoda chided them seriously.

Obi-Wan snatched the bottle from the grinning Quinlan, draining the last of the brandy in a long swallow. "Wankers, the lot of you," he muttered, rising unsteadily to his feet.

"Scared Master Kenobi away, I think we have."

"Nah, he's just running back to his _love-ah_!"

Quinlan rose as well, throwing a companionable arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder and pulling his Santa hat from his head to jam on Obi-Wan's ginger hair. "Something to wear for your Padawan tonight," he whispered huskily, "with nothing else on, hmmm?"

"Stop _picturing it!_" Obi-Wan snapped as Quinlan's faulty shielding let images leak into his mind. Batting him away, Obi-Wan nearly fell over, catching Quinlan's arm to regain his balance. The two of them tottered backwards to fall in an awkward heap onto one of the Council chairs.

"Oh you _bet_ I am," the Jedi Master licked his lips slowly, pressing Obi-Wan back against the chair, holding him firmly by the shoulders. Obi-wan struggled futilely against the bigger man as Quinlan claimed a long, lingering kiss, running his tongue over Obi-Wan's lips as he pulled away. Growling in disgust, Obi-Wan stood up, sending Quinlan sprawling onto the floor laughing hysterically.

"Just… all of you…just… oh fuck it," Obi-Wan muttered, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth before storming out of the room.

There was silence for a moment as the reverberations of the great doors slamming died away.

"And… time." Mace said quietly, checking his chrono. "Three hours, five minutes."

"In this time frame, that Master Kenobi would leave, which of you bet?" Yoda asked quickly, ears perking up abruptly.

Quinlan sat up, grinning like a contented nexu. "That would be _me._ Pay up, all of you, come on!"

"Damn him! If he had lasted another ten minutes, that money would be _mine! _Kissing him was breaking the rules, I'm certain of it." Depa complained, handing over her credits.

"And using your feminine wiles to try to get him to stay wasn't?" he countered. Depa shrugged, conceding the point.

"Have more brandy, do we? Otherwise next to leave, I might be…."

---

Obi-Wan paced around his apartments irately, hands clenched at his sides. The… the _insinuations_ that _he_ couldn't take control of his relationship – any relationship – with his former Padawan was frankly insulting. _He_ was the Master in his bond with Anakin and, Force-damn it, he could seduce whoever the _fuck_ he wanted to!

He was not surprised that Anakin wasn't there – his former Padawan would be out somewhere with that… that… that Senator of his. Stupid, fucking, Padmé. _Fucking Padmé_…something he sincerely hoped that Anakin was _not_ doing.

Striding over to the Christmas tree, Obi-Wan gazed forlornly at the presents neatly arrayed underneath it, their bright bows mocking him. Well, at least the one from Quinlan would come in handy – Obi-Wan hoisted the bottle-shaped package appreciatively, tearing away the wrapping paper swiftly.

Ah… _Bache Gabrielsen_. Quinlan always had good taste in alcohol. Growling at the card – _'This will taste even better licked off your Padawan' – _Obi-Wan opened the bottle and called a brandy snifter to his other hand. What was that fucker trying to _do_ to him, putting that right on the bottle! What if Anakin had seen it? He would think that Obi-wan was a lecherous old man, lusting after him like that…..

Obi-Wan sighed. No doubt that was _exactly_ what Quinlan had intended. Asshole.

Still…. Swirling the cognac around in the glass idly, Obi-Wan stared at the card for a long time. It took two glasses of the heady liquor before a faint smile curved his lips, a suspicious gleam lighting up his blue eyes.

Yes. _Yes_. This would work. He would have a few hours before Anakin got home. Enough time to mellow out a bit. Enough time to set the mood, to weave a web of seduction for his unwary apprentice. Obi-Wan hiccoughed slightly, staggering to the centre of the room and waving one hand unsteadily to light the candles on the mantle. Yes. Anakin wouldn't stand a _chance_ against him, oh _no_. Because _Master_ Kenobi was going to get his Christmas present… and it would be a _pleasure_ to unwrap it.

----

Anakin stalked down the halls of the Temple, studiously avoiding all places where mistletoe was hung. The female Padawans that clustered around those areas were eyeing him in a hungry manner that made him twitch. He'd had enough of determined women for one evening – Padmé had refused to let up about his and Obi-Wan's relationship until he had invented a whole sordid story about their 'first time' together. Not that there hadn't been some wishful thinking on his part in there…. Padmé had been obliged to snap her fingers in front of his eyes a few times to bring him back to reality. To his pathetic, bleak, sex-with-Obi-Wan-less reality.

To the reality where Obi-Wan was pissed off at him. Again. As usual. Their mission together that morning hadn't been that bad. It had been successful in the end, after all…and it wasn't as if Anakin had _meant_ to lock his Master in with that Gossam woman. It wasn't Anakin's fault that she was hooker. And that she wasn't actually a _woman_. But how was he supposed to know, when the door clicked shut behind the two of them, that it wasn't _Obi-Wan_ who had done it? They _were_ supposed to be interrogating her… er… _him_. When Anakin had heard the thud of someone being slammed up against the wall, he had just assumed that his Master was going into more… _aggressive_ negotiating. And he _had_ burst in there to deal with the situation before the woman… er… _man,_ had done anything unspeakable to his Master.

At least he thought so; Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to talk about it, closing his eyes and shuddering when Anakin tried to broach the subject. He _would_ have asked the Gossam, but he had gotten… a little carried away in defending his Master – it was hard to talk to someone whose throat had just been severed by a lightsabre.

He just didn't like the idea of any man touching Obi-Wan. Any man _aside_ from him, more like. He _loved_ the idea of _him_ touching Obi-Wan. Kissing Obi-Wan. Fucking Obi-Wan. He liked _those_ ideas a _lot_.

Closing his eyes, mentally preparing for the lecture that was to come, Anakin passed his hand over the panel, stepping back as the door hissed open.

He paused, startled on the threshold, frowning in consternation at the flickering candles that were the sole illumination in the room. The doors to their small balcony were wide open, letting a cool breeze stir the flames, but the thermostat was turned up to keep the room comfortable. Two glasses of brandy sat on the end table, and Anakin hesitated, staring at them. Was… was Obi-Wan here with somebody? Oh, _that_ would make a _perfect _end to the evening; to have spent hours with Padmé pretending to be _her_ boyfriend, then to have acted as though Obi-Wan was his _lover_ (something he ardently desired but didn't – couldn't – have), only to find Obi-Wan here with some random Coruscanti _slut_ that he was in the middle of seducing. Anakin's jaw clenched at the idea of anyone else invading the quarters that he shared with Obi-Wan.

With a growl, Anakin slammed the brandy back down on the table, stalking out into the balcony to let the frost-kissed air caress his cheeks and cool his temper. Because if he caught _anyone _touching Obi-Wan in the mood he was in, he would send her flying out the fucking window, before shoving Obi-Wan down onto the bed and fucking him senseless. Making Obi-Wan scream his name until his Master knew _exactly_ to whom he belonged.

Anakin sighed, pressing his fingers hard against his temples. He had _such_ a headache….

"Well _hello_ there," a melodious voice murmured from behind him. Anakin whirled to find Obi-Wan, a languid smile on his face, leaning against the doorframe to his room. His black sleep pants were slung low on his hips, robe draped loosely over his shoulders, hanging open to give Anakin a view of his defined chest. A bottle – a mostly empty bottle, Anakin noticed – was loosely twined in his fingers.

There was a Santa hat perched on his head.

Anakin blinked sharply, shaking his head. How much liquor _had_ he drunk at Padmé's?

"Master," Anakin said respectfully, inclining his head.

"Aaaaanakiiiiin," Obi-Wan drawled, sidling into the room, weaving in an unsteady line to the couch, flopping down onto it heavily and taking a long pull from the bottle. Anakin's hands clenched at his sides as he stared at his Master's long elegant neck, outlined in the firelight as he drank down the last of the liquor. A drop of the amber liquid caught at the edge of his Master's lips, gleaming in the candles' glow. Anakin wanted to lick it away, to run his tongue over that jaw line and throat.

Obi-Wan shook the bottle, peering down the neck and tilting it upside down. "Fuck," he said succinctly, reaching out to set the empty bottle onto the table. He missed by a good two feet.

Anakin raised his eyebrows. "Master?" He had _never_ seen Obi-Wan drunk before. Not _this_ drunk. Maybe vaguely tipsy or even slightly incapacitated… but not this. His Master was abso-fucking-lutely _shitfaced_.

And Force, but it was _sexy_.

"Come here, young one," Obi-Wan purred, patting his knee, "sit with me." He settled into the cushions with a contented grin, draping his arms over the rear of the couch. "Tell Santa what you want for Christmas."

'_To go over there and fuck you through that couch?' _Anakin mused, walking cautiously over to his inebriated Master, perching gingerly on the arm of the chesterfield. Obi-Wan promptly hooked his arms around Anakin's waist, pulling the startled younger man onto his lap.

Anakin gasped sharply as Obi-Wan kissed his neck, feeling a delicious shiver run all the way through his body. Obi-Wan being aggressively physical? _His_ _Obi-Wan_? It defied belief. Anakin barely stifled a moan as his Master's hands stroked his sides lightly. It caught him off-guard, so that he was barely able to_ think_, let alone respond or, better yet, take control of the situation. To be pulled roughly onto a smirking, seductive, Obi-Wan's lap… _well._ It was as though the Force had decided that Anakin had been _very good_ after all, and wanted to reward him properly.

The Santa hat was a bit of a surprise, but Anakin wasn't inclined to argue on that point.

"Have you been a good boy this year?" Obi-Wan growled softly, nuzzling Anakin's throat, "or have you been …_naughty?_"

"Mmmm…." Anakin hummed incoherently, letting his head fall back to give Obi-Wan better access to his throat. "Master…wha-what are you doing? What are you…_ohhh…_" he whimpered softly as Obi-Wan's teeth nibbled at the tender flesh of his collar bone.

Obi-Wan pulled away, eyes wide with surprise. "I… I'm seducing you, Anakin," he said uncertainly, stretching up to press a clumsy kiss on Anakin's lips, catching the corner of the younger man's mouth. "But," he made a show of looking around the room, leaning forward to whisper into Anakin's ear, "_But! _You can't… can't not... tell _anybody_. It's a surprise. You're not supposed to be knowing what's going on, hmm? So don't say… _anything_." To emphasize his point, Obi-Wan placed one finger over Anakin's lips as he spoke, giggling and kissing Anakin again.

"Mmm… you're _drunk_, aren't you?" Anakin asked quietly, letting Obi-Wan nibble at his ear as he moved to straddle the older man's hips.

"I most certainly am _not_," Obi-Wan retorted sharply, hiccoughing slightly. "I'm… am… do you _see_ any drinks around me? Hmm? _Hmm?_ I don't think not! So… so… so _there! _Now…_stop_ interrupting-ing me…."

"Yes, Master," Anakin complied easily, arching forward to press more fully against Obi-Wan. For once, he didn't mind agreeing with his Master….

Of course there _was_ the _teeny tiny _little twinge of guilt that he just _might_ be taking advantage of his drunken Master. Just _maybe_. But his mind was drowned out by quite another part of his body, which rather enjoyed making the decisions for a change. _It_ certainly didn't have any qualms.

On the contrary, it was rather impudently poking against Obi-Wan's stomach, demanding more attention.

Obi-Wan smiled knowingly, reaching down to ghost his fingers over the straining fabric. The dress robes that Anakin had worn to Padmé's party were considerably thinner than his usual wear, and the heat from Obi-Wan's fingers made Anakin whimper and wriggle under his Master's ministrations. The chill from the open door behind him raised goose bumps over his skin, even as warmth flushed his entire body from the older Jedi's caress.

'_Well…' _Anakin reasoned, pressing forward against Obi-Wan's hands. _'It's not _really_ taking advantage of him if this is what he wants….' _Anakin gasped as Obi-Wan's hands found an opening in his robes, sliding inside to press against flushed skin. The taste of Obi-Wan's mouth on his was intoxicating, the smoky sweet taste of the alcohol he had been drinking coupled with the faintest flavour of chocolate. Anakin danced his tongue against Obi-Wan's as they kissed again, wanting to sample every inch of his Master's succulent mouth. One hand rose to toy with the pom-pom on the older Jedi's Santa Hat as Obi-Wan's fingers traced little patterns on his bared chest.

He moaned faintly as Obi-Wan circled a nipple with his index finger. His Master traced a spiralling pattern around the sensitive nub of flesh before leaning forward to gently pinch it with his teeth, making Anakin wriggle in pleasure. This movement rubbed the bulge in his pants against Obi-Wan's answering erection, causing both men to groan loudly.

The chime of their door going off made Anakin jump, sliding quickly –though reluctantly – from Obi-Wan's lap to cautiously approach the entrance. Much as he would have preferred to just ignore it, Anakin didn't want anyone to come bursting in on him straddling Obi-Wan, either. Shooting a glance back at his Master to make sure the inebriated Jedi was remaining on the couch – if it was Mace or Yoda, Anakin didn't want to be blamed for Obi-Wan's current state – Anakin palmed open the door, crossing his arms so that his flowing cloak would disguise the evidence of Obi-Wan's effect on him.

He stepped back as the door opened. And looked down.

Fifteen little snot-nosed brats grinned at him from under ridiculously bright elf hats, before bursting into song.

"_Grandmaster Yoda is a jolly old green troll!_

_With wrinkled lips and a gimmer stick, and Force-powers untold!_

_Grandmaster Yoda is ancient so they say, _

_Bad, his grammar is, but he's still a wiz –"_

"Christmas carols?" Anakin groaned but forced a smile, feeling it falter as the Padawan's voices wobbled and cracked alarmingly. Anakin flinched. Having a chorus of Padawans was one thing, but making the boys still sing when they were hitting puberty was just _cruel_. Anakin frowned down at the kids. Objectively speaking, they were probably around fifteen, to have braids that long, but Anakin was _certain_ that he hadn't looked _that_ young at that age.

"_MUSIC!" _Obi-Wan suddenly yelled, jumping to his feet. _"That's _what I forgot! Essential for seduction…."

Anakin cast a nervous glance back at his Master as Obi-Wan staggered towards the door, feeling himself blush as Obi-Wan slid one arm around his waist and leaned his head on Anakin's shoulder. "I forgot the music, Anakin."

"That's alright Master…."

"But… but how am I supposed to get you into bed without any _music?"_

"Master…" Anakin hissed through gritted teeth, "_not_ in front of the children!" (who were starting to smirk knowingly). Anakin was tempted to reach into the Force and throttle the little buggers.

Obi-Wan seemed to finally focus on the crowd of Padawans in front of him, grinning a little lopsidedly. "_Oh…_ oh right. They're not supposed to know about sex yet, are they? Well! At least they can come in for a drink!"

"NO!" Anakin yelled, then calmed himself with difficulty. "I mean, they probably have a lot more rooms to visit tonight before Santa comes and…" he trailed off, a smile tugging at his lips as he flicked the pom-pom on Obi-Wan's hat again. "And Santa will never…_come…_unless they get a move on."

"We just have one more song, specifically requested by Master Vos for you!" one of the kids chirruped so cheerfully that Anakin wanted to vomit. The kid's voice was piercing through the muzzy warmth of his lust for Obi-Wan, and that made Anakin growl.

"I really don't think that--"

"Ok!" Obi-Wan enthused, leaning all of his weight on Anakin so that the younger Jedi had to stagger to support him.

"'_Santa baby, slip my apprentice under the tree, for me,_

_He's been naughty this year, Santa baby, _

_So hurry down the chimney tonight!_

_Santa baby, a shiny delta six that's brand new, which I'll use_

_To fuck him in the back seat, Santa baby,_

_So hurry down the chimney tonight!_

_Think of all the fun I've missed,_

_Think of all the Masters that I haven't kissed," _("'Cept Qui-Gon!" one of the kids yelled quickly.)

_If you don't tie him to my bed, _

_Then next year I'll become a Sith –'"_

Anakin couldn't stand it any longer. He let the door slam shut on that chorus of smirking faces. Fuck Quinlan Vos, the bastard.

"I liked that idea about the Delta-6," Obi-Wan murmured, kissing the base of his partner's neck (Anakin quickly murmured a silent apology to Quinlan).

"But Master, you _hate_ flying," he muttered as he turned to face Obi-Wan, allowing the Jedi Master to press him up against the door.

"Well… I'll make it my New Year's resolution to get used to it."

"Better start practicing now, then."

"Hmm… indeed."

Slowly, Anakin pushed Obi-Wan back towards his Master's room, slipping his hands inside the loose brown robe his Master was wearing as he did so, letting it fall to the floor. Obi-Wan promptly tripped over it and stumbled backwards against the liquor cabinet, dragging Anakin with him. Anakin let his black cloak fall to the floor as he pushed Obi-Wan firmly back against the wooden cabinet, pressing his hips forward as his mouth trailed hungrily along his Master's exposed throat.

Obi-Wan was fumbling with Anakin's belt, clumsy fingers scrabbling uselessly at the clasp, until with a growl, he grabbed it firmly in his hands and _pulled_, snapping the leather in two. Hooking the fingers of one hand into the waistband of Anakin's pants, and grabbing a bottle of Nubian spiced wine with the other, Obi-Wan tugged his apprentice away from the cabinet, pulling the willing Anakin into his bedroom.

Untangling himself for a moment from Obi-Wan's grasp, Anakin pushed his Master backwards onto his bed, kneeling down in front of him to tug off the loose sleep pants in one swift manoeuvre, dragging his fingernails lightly over the sensitive skin underneath. Obi-Wan smiled languorously at Anakin, taking a slow sip of the spiced wine, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as the flavour exploded on his tongue. Anakin responded by digging his fingernails into Obi-Wan's thighs, slowly dragging his tongue up the length of Obi-Wan's exposed cock, tracing it from tip to base. He felt the shudder run through the length of Obi-Wan's body, his Master's hands clenching in Anakin's blonde curls as he drew his Master's length fully into his mouth. Obi-Wan moaned, tightening his grip on Anakin, holding him still as his hips rocked up off the bed. With a Force-shove, Anakin pinned him back down, swirling his tongue around the tip of Obi-Wan's cock, gripping his Master's hips tightly.

Obi-Wan panted as he stared down at Anakin, those pouty lips, red and full and bruised with kisses, surrounding his erection, mussed blonde curls falling over those intense blue eyes. It was incredibly erotic.

Sliding one hand from Anakin's hair, Obi-Wan grabbed one of the hands that were tightly clenched on his hipbones, bringing it up to his mouth to caress two fingers with his tongue. He sucked on them lightly, nibbling Anakin's fingertips and tasting the musky flavour of Anakin's skin. He mewled in protest as Anakin let his erection slip from his mouth, writhing as Anakin slid his fingers inside of him instead. Anakin purred at the reactions he was getting, grabbing the bottle of wine with his other hand and spilling a trickle of the red wine over his Master's chest and licking it off. The spicy flavour of the wine danced over his tongue as he ran it across Obi-Wan's right nipple, making his Master buck up against his fingers. Swiftly, he set the bottle on the bedside table, trusting the Force to steady it – he was more occupied with sampling Obi-Wan's chest.

Bringing his mouth back up to Obi-Wan's, feeling the tickle of his Master's beard against his chin, Anakin gently scissored his fingers apart, feeling his Master gasp against his mouth. Tangled together, they both slid farther up the bed, Anakin supporting his Master's head with his other hand as he guided it down onto the pillow.

"You… you know," Obi-Wan gasped roughly against Anakin's ear, "I've wanted this for a long time."

"Me too," Anakin whispered, pressing is forehead against Obi-Wan's, their breathing coming in perfect time. "Me too."

"I want…." Obi-Wan trailed off as his hips arched off the bed to grind against Anakin's.

Anakin smiled, kissing Obi-Wan's eyelids as they drifted shut, twining their fingers together as he slowly entered Obi-Wan. Anakin braced his hand on Obi-Wan's waist as his Master gasped and writhed, drawing back to thrust deeper inside of him. Obi-Wan's neck arched against the pillow, head lolling to one side as he cried out Anakin's name.

Anakin moved the hand on Obi-Wan's waist to his Master's erection that was brushing against his stomach. Tracing his fingers along the underside of it as his Master moaned resonantly, Anakin murmured Obi-Wan's name again and again in time to the movement of his hips and his hand. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the heat of Obi-Wan, the scent of his Master's skin, the feel of their bodies sliding against each other. They climaxed together, Obi-Wan screaming out Anakin's name and Anakin biting his Master's shoulder hard enough to taste blood.

Unable to support his weight any longer, Anakin let himself collapse bonelessly onto Obi-Wan, their bodies sticking together with sweat. Obi-Wan murmured something softly, kissing Anakin's shoulder and neck, rubbing his apprentice's back softly with calloused hands.

Moving to lie next to Obi-Wan, Anakin pulled him into his arms, stroking the white fur of the band on the Santa hat. Obi-Wan laughed, kissing the tip of Anakin's nose and rising from the bed to seek out two wine glasses. Anakin lounged against the pillows, smiling in appreciation as he watched his naked Master stumble across the room, one hand thrown out for balance as he staggered, swaying from side to side. Pouring two glasses of the Nubian spiced wine, Obi-Wan slid back onto the bed to cuddle against Anakin, who immediately relieved his Master of the wine glass. They had both had enough to drink for one night.

"It's snowing," the younger Jedi said softly to distract his Master, setting the two glasses aside and kissing the base of Obi-Wan's neck, leaving a little love-bite.

"Hmmm…" Obi-Wan sighed in pleasure, before turning swiftly to face Anakin. "Did it work?" he asked tentatively, blue eyes childish and wide.

Anakin's brow furrowed slightly, confused as he was by the question. "Did what… I'm sorry?" Hooking one arm around Obi-Wan's back, Anakin gently drew him down onto the mattress, pressing his body against his Master's.

"My plan to seduce you. Did it work?"

Anakin raised one eyebrow, taking in the fact that the two of them were naked; limbs sprawled out and tangled between the sheets, intimately intertwined. "Yes Master. Yes it did."

"Oh." Obi-Wan smiled sleepily, rubbing his cheek against Anakin's chest as though marking his lover with his scent. "I'm glad." Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan hooked one leg over Anakin's hip, pulling the younger man closer as his eyes drifted closed. "Merry Christmas, Anakin."

Anakin smiled, kissing Obi-Wan's forehead tenderly. "Merry Christmas, Obi-Wan."

But the Jedi Master was already sound asleep, hand curled loosely on Anakin's arm, Santa hat starting to slip down over one eye, lips slightly parted as he snuggled tighter against Anakin's chest. The younger Jedi smiled, not envying Obi-Wan the headache he would have in the morning.

Anakin smiled, wrapping both arms around Obi-Wan's waist to hold him securely, before letting his own eyes drift closed.

----

"Uggggh…" Obi-Wan groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the rays of sunlight that were mounting an assault on his dangerously hung-over brain. He slowly, _carefully_, turned over on his side away from the window.

And yelled in shock.

"What? What?" Anakin cried out, sitting bolt upright.

Obi-Wan instantly cringed, pressing his hands over his temples as his skull imploded. Or at least that was what it felt like.

"Master? What's wrong?"

"Just… just… _quietly_, Anakin," Obi-Wan pleaded, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. Anakin's hands on his shoulders made him jump slightly, and then relax as those clever hands started massaging the tenseness from his muscles. He turned his head slightly, but, seeing Anakin kneeling behind him completely and gloriously naked, made him moan softly and turn away again.

"Obi-Wan…?"

"I… I'm sorry, Anakin. I shouldn't have… oh fucking Sith, I shouldn't have…" he sighed, biting his lip and closing his eyes.

"No, you probably shouldn't have drunk that much, Master," Anakin sounded amused as he tugged Obi-Wan backwards lightly, so that his Master was sitting between his legs. Wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's waist, he pressed a kiss between the older Jedi's shoulder blades. "It's never fun to be hung-over on Christmas day."

"No, Anakin--" Obi-Wan started, turning around to face Anakin, who was smiling.

"You also should have let me sleep in more," Anakin whispered, his gaze fixed on Obi-Wan's lips. He wanted to taste them again….

"Anakin, I'm _sorry_ –"

"That's all right," Anakin chuckled affably, "we have all day to catch up on that."

"No, I mean—"

"I know." Anakin said softly, pressing one finger against Obi-Wan's lips. "But the only thing I'm sorry about is that you don't remember it. But…" his grin took on a decidedly wicked aspect. "…but again, we have _all day_ to catch up on that."

Obi-Wan paused, his rational mind still insisting that he had done something wrong. But his body had a very different take on the situation, and his head hurt too much to be rational.

Anakin drew him back down onto the bed, still rubbing Obi-Wan's back as he pulled his Master close against him again. One hand snuck up to toy with the pom-pom on the Santa hat again, running the white fur between his fingers. Obi-Wan, frowning in consternation, reached up to grab Anakin's hand, and blanched when he felt the hat. Memories of the drinking game and Quinlan came flooding back in an uncomfortable rush. He knew he was bright red, and definitely feeling more idiotic than he had thought possible. It wasn't enough that he had drunkenly tried to seduce his former Padawan, but to do it in a _ridiculous_ hat?

Anakin grabbed his Master's hand quickly, stopping him. "Don't. Don't… I like it," he whispered, dropping his hand back to his bemused Master's hip, "it reminds me to be a _good_ boy, you know…." he smiled sensuously, pulling Obi-Wan tighter against him.

Obi-Wan nodded judiciously, trying not to gasp as Anakin's fingers traced the curve of his ass. "I…I really should keep… keep tabs on you… check the list twice, you know…."

"So long as _I'm_ the list, I have no problem with you going over things twice…."

"…three times, for the sake of being thorough."

Anakin growled low in his throat, hooking one leg over Obi-Wan's hip and grinding their groins together. Obi-Wan gasped, his neck arching back as Anakin's fingers circled his entrance.

"Nice boys _certainly_ don't behave like… like… like _that!_" he moaned the last word as Anakin slipped one finger inside of him.

"Are you complaining?" he purred roughly, sucking at his Master's throat.

Obi-Wan grinned, arching forward into Anakin's touch. "Not at all."

----

Quinlan studied the face of the Padawan before him intently, trying not to smirk. Beside him, Depa looked much less pleased. The other members of the Council were arrayed in the background, trying desperately to look casual. And failing.

"You're certain?" Master Billaba demanded, glowering.

"You really sang the song?" Quinlan demanded gleefully. "And he was still wearing the hat?"

"Stop interrupting." Depa snapped at him.

"Yeah, he was wearing the hat. I think that he was pretty drunk as well. Look, they were both half-naked and pretty much all over each other," the kid asserted, wrinkling his nose. "Can I go now?"

"I _like _this kid," Quinlan smirked, ruffling the boy's hair and handing him a few credits before he ran away. "Carol-singers. I can't believe that they fell for that."

Depa scowled as she turned back to her fellow Jedi. "Kid says that they did it."

"Which means I win again," Quinlan reminded her cheerfully, with a wolfish smile.

"An excellent team we make, Master Vos." Yoda chimed in as the rest of the disgruntled Jedi handed over their money.

"Indeed we do, Master. I loved those lyrics."

"A talent of mine it is," Yoda said modestly, before whirling on the Jedi Masters, "Now, stingy be not. Lost, you did, and up, you must pay." He cackled as he counted his money. Quinlan, pocketing his share, sidled over to Depa to offer her double-or-nothing odds on who had been on top. Mace was sharing another bottle of brandy with Adi Gallia and Plo Koon, while Ki-Adi-Mundi was writing a new Christmas song for the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan and Anakin weren't the _only_ Jedi having a good Christmas morning.

END.

* * *

Yes, tis pure sillyness, and I promise that the next new post on this account will be Chiaro chapter 9. Really. It will. TM would kill me otherwise...

Xtine the (silly Jedi) pirate


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